Under Covers
by tractus.solitarius
Summary: "Our cover is a married half-blood couple with a very specific sexual appetite, Granger. You can't blush like a prudish little school girl every time I touch you." (Drabble-y Oneshot Dramione. Ignores the epilogue. M)


_A/N: This is rather a pointless Dramione oneshot that I'm only writing as a way of putting into words a somewhat weird abstract dream I had a few hours ago. This is not the exact dream I had, but the gist of what I felt the moment I woke up. My fic obviously ignores the epilogue. I've never written anything Harry Potter before, so forgive me if I made a mistake or something with whatever. Moreover, this fic is kind of open ended cliffy, so sorry about that too._

* * *

"Are you sure no one has seen us?" Hermione breathily asks as she shoves her satchel inside the top drawer of the bedside table. She has no clue as to what Malfoy put in there, but judging the smirk that she sees on his face whenever he thinks she's not looking, it can't be anything good.

Hermione is about to slam the drawer shut, half hoping that her partner would be forgetting it altogether, when a hand suddenly shoots out in front of her, pushing her out of the way and onto the bed. Surprised, she yelps. "Oh bloody hell-"

"Nu-uh." Malfoy's eyes are twinkling as he regards her carefully. There's dangerous glint in the way he's staring at her, and although she could see no ill-intent in them, she still finds it unnerving. "You're not getting off that easy, Granger. You agreed to this.

She tries to sit back up after her ungracious landing, but the same hand that shoved her aside forces her back down again by her shoulder. "I have already acknowledged that, Malfoy. Twice." She grumbles, still not giving up in her attempts. "In fact, the entire morning, I have been doing everything you want, no questions asked. Why must you keep adding salt to the wounds?"

"You. Agreed. To. This." Malfoy repeats, still pressing her down.

"Hey!" She slaps his hand away, but only to be pushed back down with a much stronger force. "Hey, what the hell! Stop it, you absolute prat!" She protests.

"Granger." Malfoy's smirk widens as he leans over her face, his breath ghosting dangerously across her cheek. "The op is about to start in a week. You agreed to do this my way, remember?"

Blast it. She made her bed; she must be prepared to lie on it. How did Kingsley ever managed to convince her to do this? And with Draco Malfoy, of all people?

"I hate you." She groans petulantly, using all her might in avoiding her partner's gaze. Why on Merlin's name did she even agree to his crazy methods? They've been partners in the auror department for two years now, but not once did she ever make a commitment so stupid, she'd probably regret it for the rest of her life. And now… now she's paying the price. Now, she has to endure who knows how many days of torment under her ferret of a partner, who, by the way, is presently eyeing her hungrily from head to toe like a piece of meat ready to be devoured. She can't even make herself imagine the thoughts that are most certainly running in his mind without breaking in sweat. Preparing to get into the role, her arse. He's enjoying her agony a little too much.

"I don't doubt that; although," Languidly, he runs his lips on the side of her neck, and right when he's about to reach her ear, the tip of his tongue shoots out, tickling the one spot that only he knew could make her knees helplessly buckle with no hope for recovery, "the question is," he gives the area a hearty suckle, forcing out a whimper out of her throat, "do you," another suckle, "hate me," and another, "…enough?"

The intensity of him, of the situation she finds herself in, is making her shiver. For a second or two, she loses herself to the sensation, even if each and every thought she has tells her that what they're doing is wrong and is not even remotely appropriate workplace behavior. Whenever she's with him, everything simply fades away onto the background like an annoying static that can be easily ignored.

So easily ignored.

After a while though, Hermione manages to gather enough wits in her to recall that this is Malfoy she's dealing with. The man is known capable of playing enough mind games to make her brain want to spontaneously combust in sheer frustration alone. Knowing the git, he's merely toying with her as usual. So with an irritated roar, she shoves him non-too-gently away from her abused neck.

"Ugh." The raw and tender feeling he leaves behind is making her skin prickle all over even as she wipes it down. Repeatedly. "Could you quit it for just one second?!" Aurors may not have an actual defined workplace per se, but the two of them are still on the job. This means that technically, they are still inside a work environment. They cannot-and must not-fool around like some hormonal teenagers. Even if it's as preparation for a long term undercover operation.

With a soft grunt, Malfoy straightened himself and stares her down. "Quit it?" He repeats, his hackles rising slightly. "When Kingsley ordered us to get better acquainted with each other to convincingly portray our soon to be roles for our Bulgarian op, what do you think he meant?"

Hermione stands up to meet him, refusing to let their height difference intimidate her. "I don't know, Malfoy." She replies frustratingly. "Talk about it like normal people maybe? Create additional stories for our background, set up extraction points for our back up, things like that! Not...not-this!" She isn't sure which is more ridiculous, the fact that he just licked her neck, or that she even let him do it. "Argh." She's certain she's scraped off half the skin off her neck by the way she's rubbing it. "Arghhhh!"

"Our cover is a married halfblood couple with a very specific sexual appetite, Granger. You can't blush like a prudish little school girl every time I touch you."

A horrified look overtakes her features. "I absolutely did not blush! And for your information, that," she slaps his arm, thoroughly aggravated, "was not," another slap, "touching!" She feels the heat rise on her cheeks even as she said it. She shudders in disgust. "You licked my neck, you disgusting prick! Ugh!"

Draco snorts. "Thank Circe I've had such forethought of not showing you the contents of the satchel we brought in so early on then." He said. "Tell me, Granger, have you even seen used a sex toy before?" He pauses for a split second, smirking. "Hell, have you even seen one?"

"What? What kind of question is that?" Hermione splutters. Without her thinking, she steps further away from the drawer containing the bag in question.

Draco grins mischievously. She may not have noticed her own action, but he did. _Oh he's going to enjoy this._

Hermione, on the other hand, still isn't done with her tirade. "And by the way, who's the muggleborn here? Those bloody things are muggle in origin. How on earth could you possibly know them?"

Excited at the prospect of driving his partner a lot crazier than usual, Draco's smirk grows wider. "I don't get your discomfort in this." Draco states, eyes boring into hers curiously. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

"W-what?" Her face could not turn any more crimson if she tried. "Of course not!" How dare he ask her that, when they both know the answer to that question. Barely a month after they started working together, and he himself made sure that she isn't. Hell, if that didn't convince him then, the four other times that it happened again surely did the job. More than a year long gap between today and the last one of those regrettable episodes isn't enough to completely erase the memory of the fact away, much to her disappointment.

"Oh, yeah. Right." He grins, wiggling playful brow at her. "Haven't forgotten those trysts, have we?"

She was frustrated about her cheating ex then, and Draco just happened to be there. He's a rebound made up of poorly thought of decisions. And a shot of tequila (Or five). There's nothing more to it. She's never even dated the guy. Honestly, at that low point in her life she probably would've revenge shagged almost anyone who smiled at her right. "Please, I would've shagged anyone given the chance. I am not to blame for being stupid enough to pick you and your unremarkable skills during my time of need."

"Oh excuse you, my unremarkable skills?" Draco's eyebrows rose to his hairline. He looks too intrigued to be insulted. "Is that a challenge?"

"No, w-what? No, of course not!" If her face face gets any hotter, smoke probably would've come out of it. "Come on, Malfoy. Be serious here! We need to talk about our plan."

"No, we already have a plan. We're here for the prep for that plan." Draco counters. "And, as you might have noticed, I was well into it before I was so wrongfully disturbed by your eternally swotty self."

"Prep for our plan how?" Hermione asks, her nose flaring indignantly. "By lapping me up like one of your brainless bimbos?"

"The fact that you haven't figured that out by yourself is quite offensive, to be honest." He shrugs. "Not that you're a bimbo. And Merlin himself would most likely shoot me down with a lightning bolt if I ever dare call you brainless. Lose the cloak."

"W-what?" Hermione squeaks, holding onto her robes tighter than ever. "Not a bloody chance!"

"How will our target buy into our sex-starved front if you are too uptight to even shed your top in front of me?" Draco questions, hands firmly settled on his hips. "For Merlin's sake, Granger. This is just a job, and it is not as if you haven't enjoyed having sex with me before."

Oh she did. She could only hope she didn't, but boy oh boy, she did. She really did. "No." She shakes her head. "There's gotta be another way to do this."

"I don't fancy getting killed by a dark wizard just because my fake wife could not bear looking at a vibrator without passing out."

"This can't be the only way, Malfoy." She insists, as if she didn't even hear him. "We're supposed to buy and sell dark artifacts hidden inside shipments of muggle adult toys. There's nothing in the file about us having to use, nor have such personal knowledge about said toys!" What on Merlin's name did they teach purebloods like him during their Ministry-required Muggle studies program after the war? There's no way the Ministry sanctioned adding such depraved concepts in their curriculum.

"It is implied, woman!"

"No it bloody hell isn't!" Hermione disagrees. Vehemently.

Draco stares at his partner for a split second before finally letting out a sigh. There's no getting through to her whenever she has that stubborn face on. He might as well let her feel that she's in control of the situation before making her see that the best way of dealing with their problem is through his methods.

"Fine." Draco acquiesces despite having her consent that they'd do it his way earlier that day. He knows she'd get cold feet right before it happened, and Granger did not disappoint. "I'll give you a day. Do whatever you want to prepare for this. I'll set up a meet with one of Kingsley's inside men in the smuggling ring tomorrow afternoon. If you can pretend to be depraved enough to convince him, then I'll concede to your methods. Otherwise, we'll do it my way and you better not protest against it then."

* * *

"I told you it wouldn't work." Draco smugly tells her the next day. They'd just left the neutral location where he'd set up the meeting with Kingsley's inside man.

"But I've-" Hermione begins, still finding her failure too difficult to accept.

"Books cannot teach you everything, love." Draco interrupts. He could say that ever since he'd known Granger, this is actually the first time he'd seen her fail. Hell, she didn't just do a crappy job of pretending to know what she's doing, she failed so spectacularly he believes that if she didn't hex their appointed judge so abruptly, he'd still be laughing his arse off right at that moment. He can't believe that his partner sincerely believed that reading a book alone is enough to make her a convincing pseudo-pervert. She discussed the items she brought so stiffly, a muggle Bible salesman would probably done a better job than her. A way better job.

"Yes, yes. Okay. You win. Will you please shut up now?" Hermione mutters angrily as she waves the wards off her flat. She leaves the door open, half wishing that Draco would not dare follow her in. Knowing her partner, however, hoping for such things is basically setting herself up for disappointment. She dumps her stuff onto one of the desks with a huff.

"No, you shut up." A door slam and a forceful shove after, Hermione suddenly finds herself backed against the wall of her home, with Draco crowding her space and grinding his own body against hers. She barely notices the hard bulge that is grinding potently against her crotch before he finally moves in.

"What are you-uh-umpff" A rough collision of lips quickly silences whatever protest she is about to have, clouding her mind with a fiery heat that is heading straight to her core. Her knees buckles at the unexpected onslaught, and despite her better judgment, she let herself get swept away. His hands aren't taking their time; his fingers running feverishly against her soft skin, quickly memorizing her every curve. He slips his hands underneath her shirt and all the way to her back.

Suddenly, Hermione feels herself being jerked slightly towards her partner. For a brief moment, she wonders vaguely what on Morgana's name he is planning to do. Unlike most of her male friends, Draco is someone she couldn't easily figure out. He could catch her off guard with even the smallest things.

It was only when she finally felt him flick his fingers behind her, wandlessly making her bra disappear, that she finally realized his goal. She barely contains the moan that erupted from her throat as his questing fingers slowly, yet surely, found their way to her throbbing nipples. He caresses them softly, squeezing each mound of flesh that held them with enough force to make her toes curl. When his thumbs finds her sensitive peaks, she almost lost total control of her mental faculties. It renders her practically incapable of thought.

"Merlin!" She curses as the pleasure-pain sensation hits her head on, rushing into her nipples and going unrestrainedly straight to her clit. She has no idea as to where he's learned to do it, but somehow, Malfoy managed to send miniature bolts of electricity through his thumb and directly into her body. She grabs onto his neck with both hands and pulls him close towards her aching chest, her intent clear.

Draco, similarly lost in the moment, merely grunts in response and followed her lead. She felt her desire practically gushing out of her core while he suckles onto her breast on top of her clothes.

"Ungh," she moans, wishing there wasn't too many layers between them. He gives equal attention to each globe, squeezing, suckling, and biting them in varying succession. But then he stops, his forehead resting firmly against her collarbone, his chest heaving akin to a man who just competed in a marathon. Hermione groans, "I h-hate you."

"You know what, I don't think you do." She could tell that he's smirking even without actually seeing his face.

"Arse." She mutters, breathless from his ministrations.

"Is there where you want me to go next?" He asks. "I'm quite brilliant at following directions, Granger, let me tell you."

The haze momentarily flickers, returning some semblance of awareness to Hermione's consciousness. "Wait, this is not... ah, hell." She curses, trying with all her might to catch her breath as Draco continues on with his ministrations. "What are-what are you doing?"

He gives her breasts a perfunctory squeeze, forcing a small whimper from her lips. "I'm enjoying myself down here." He turns his head a bit to gaze upwards at her. "What are you doing?"

Her jaw clenches while she tries to muster a strong enough response without trembling. "This is not a good idea, Malfoy."

"Well love," he shrugs, his eyes intent on hers, "it rarely is."

Slowly, and with as much care as he would give to a delicate piece of silk, Draco unfastens her shirt. For every button he conquers, a tantalizing lick shortly follows. His pace is agonizing, and Hermione is starting to lose her mind. She couldn't form a coherent enough thought to say to him, and her brain, as overrated as it is, is again been enslaved by desires of her traitorous body. He is just above her navel when he began murmuring soft words against her skin; words that she couldn't quite hear, yet sending goosebumps down her spine all the same.

The minute he starts loosening her skirt is when the weight of all it finally dawns on her. "Wait, Malfoy. Wait!" She halts his movements, swiftly grabbing both of his hands with hers.

His lust-filled eyes momentarily clears as he senses her hesitation. "Do you want me to stop?" He breathes.

Granger tries opening her mouth to say something, but nothing dares to come out. "I-ah." Her eloquence is only ever present whenever she is fully clothed, as it appeared.

He stands up straighter. She has been working with him too long she kept on forgetting how he towers over her whenever they stood close. "Just say the word and I will stop, Granger. You know that."

"Oh gods, this is wrong." Hermione grits out, the back of her head harshly hitting the wall behind her.

Draco tilts her chin downwards to gaze at her fully, his eyes focused on hers. "Not to me, it isn't."

Hermione, practically melting where she stood, closes her eyes and groans loudly in defeat before lunging desperately towards Draco for another thorough snogging.

The force by with Hermione had attacked him with is enough to knock him a couple of steps backwards; however, it is only when their lips finally meets again that got him completely off guard. Fireworks explodes in the back of his eyes at the contact, probably decimating whatever remains of his helplessly smitten brain. Her taste is divine; he could tell even before his tongue could even begin to beg for entrance into her mouth. She didn't immediately grant him access, but Draco, being Slytherin to the core, didn't let such trivial matters deter him. With such speed that would make any Quidditch superstar ex of hers green with envy, Draco rips her skirt apart.

A startled yelp from her is all it took for Draco to finally dive deeper into the recesses of her mouth, kissing her senselessly until she is practically gasping for breath.

He has waited too long for this-a year too long. All because he is stubborn enough not to pluck up the courage and just tell her that he wanted her. He wants her so much, and he's all but a finger's breadth away from completely losing his mind.

Her cloak soon then joins the pile at her feet, leaving her with nothing but an open shirt, a pair of heels, and dare he dream it, some thoroughly soaked knickers. He takes a step back, just to give himself a chance to take it all in. To see all of her in her glory once more. His pants became tight enough that every gesture, every move he makes was physically hurting him.

"What?" Hermione turns scarlet at the attention, suddenly unsure of herself. She is panting like hell.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you blush?"

His question only makes her situation worse, now even her chest took up an embarrassing shade of pink.

"You're bloody gorgeous Granger."

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes. "You're already getting into my pants. There's no need for your baseless comments."

He gives her neck another gentle suck. "Can't you just take a compliment at face value?"

He uses his lips to slowly push her shirt off her shoulders; however, midway through its journey, a nervous hand suddenly stops him. Between the two of them, she's clearly the one at a disadvantage. She can't just stand idly by and let that happen. "Why am I the only one losing clothes around here?" She breathlessly asks.

Draco shoots her a sly grin. "We're doing it my way, remember?"

At that, her eyebrow practically rises up to her hairline. "And let me guess, your way is me without clothes while you stare on like some horny little wanker."

Draco licks his lips, staring at her exposed curves precisely as she described it. He nods appreciatively at what he sees. "I'll do more than stare on, love. Much, much more."

Just as Hermione is about to tell him off, a low growl from Draco's throat abruptly interrupts her train of thought. Arms grab her out of nowhere. She feels herself spin, and- and then- "That is not how youuu-uuu-ah!"

And that was the extent of the coherency her brain was able to bring forth before she suddenly finds herself dangling upside down on Draco's shoulders. "Hey!" She shrieks in surprise, flailing her arms helplessly behind him. "Put me down! Put me down now!"

He merely snickers in response, giving her arse a resounding slap. He crosses the halls and heads straight to her bedroom.

"Damn it, Malfoy!" She protests angrily, punching him repeatedly wherever she could reach him. He barely even flinched, holding onto her legs even tighter than before. "Do that again, and I will strangle you!"

"Okay." Draco agrees, but not without spanking her arse three more times in rapid succession. Hard. "Go on then," he grins. At least he'd die happy. "Who knows, I might enjoy it."

She shrieks quite madly until she feels herself being deposited not so gracefully onto her bed. She attempts to sit up the moment she landed, but her efforts are thwarted by a well placed shove.

"Stay down." Draco gruffly orders. He was tinkering with something inside her bedside drawer, something with fur?

"Stop bossing me around!" Hermione cries, still trying to get up, only to be halted halfway again, "And stop pushing me down! What is wrong with you?"

"Give me you hands." He orders.

"I am not giving you anything until you quit ordering me around!" She yells.

"My way, Granger." Draco reminds her. "You agreed."

Grumbling under her breath and perhaps, cursing Draco all the way whichever part of hell he came from, Hermione hesitantly holds out her hands. "Fine, but-" A blink is all it took before something soft and flannel-y envelopes a third of both her arms, magically dragging them upwards, and locking them onto the bedposts above her head. When she finally realizes what he did, it was too late, "what in the-M-malfoy!" she splutteres, "Handcuffs? You're handcuffing me? This is not-are you mad?"

"As I've mentioned earlier, not everything can be learned in books," Draco gives her bound arms a final flick to check that they're not too tight. "Luckily for you, I am here to teach you."

"Teach me?" Hermione's voice rises an octave. She wiggles her arms uselessly against her restraints. "How is this teaching me?"

Instead of answering, Draco merely raises an eyebrow at her and smirks. "Diffindo."

"Draco!" Hermione gasps at the slight tickling sensation she felt on her side. Her partner just obliterated the garter of her knickers.

"Experience is the best teacher, oh you brightest witch of our age." Draco says, his voice a tad rougher, as he concentrates his eyes on Hermione's lower half. His predatory gaze made her want to curl up to herself and hide. "And by the way, I do love hearing you scream my name."

Hermione can't bear looking at him while he's gazing at her that way. A small tug at the flimsy cloth and she'd be completely revealed to him, tied up, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy. She'd slept with him before, sure, but it was certainly not like this. She isn't certain what to do, or how to proceed.

"Safe word." Draco mutters, the tension in his jaw all too prominent to miss.

Hermione tries to squirm slightly away, heart throbbing frantically at the tremendous amount of attention he's giving her, but he's pinning her at her thighs and she can barely move an inch. "W-what?"

"Safe word." Draco repeats, gritting his teeth. "Give me one, because I swear to Merlin, the moment I start-"

"Grindylows." Hermione cuts him off. "It's grindylows."

Draco releases a breath. Finally. "Are you ready for your first lesson?"

The tied witch swallows hard. "Uh-"

"I'd take that as a yes." And with that, Draco roughly lowers his mouth to hers.

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**Thanks for reading.**


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